Unravel My Latest Mistake
by Bless the Rains
Summary: When Jasper meets seventeen year old Edward he's immediately enamored, but he's reminded of past mistakes and beats a hasty retreat. Will he be able surmount his fears and make a play for the man he loves? All human. Non-canon pairings. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **When Jasper meets seventeen year old Edward he's immediately enamored, but he's reminded of past mistakes and beats a hasty retreat. Will he be able surmount his fears and make a play for the man he loves? All human. Non-canon pairings. Slash.

**Author note: **This is a companion story to _It's Waiting There For You_, but one does NOT have to read _It's Waiting There For You_ to read this one.

The first few chapters will be short and contain Jasper's backstory. Longer chapters will be posted when the story moves to present day.

This is unbeta'd and not pre-read by anyone. All mistakes are my own.

MA: This story will have explicit and lemony scenes. If boy x boy relations offend you please don't read any further.

Characters belong to S. Meyer.

_*****umlm*****_

_**[year: 2000 – Jasper age 13]**_

_Pulsatin' puke annoyin' shit stain fuckin' asshole!_

Anger rolled through me like a freight train running at full power and I swept everything off my desk, including the keyboard still attached to my PC. I sat clenching and unclenching my fists as I took deep breaths trying to control my fury.

I hadn't wanted to believe it, but the damning evidence was too hard to ignore.

Fear ripped through me.

_What was I gonna do? How was I suppose to tell her?_

Momma was going to be so hurt.

"Awwwwwwww!" I screamed in frustration.

*****umlm*****

It was supposed to be a simple social studies assignment.

In fourth period Social Studies on Monday, our teacher Mr. Lehman, had assigned our annual final term report. We had three weeks to research one of our parent's place of work and write a report of how they handled, or ignored as the case may be, a social issue topic from the list Mr. Lehman had handed out.

Momma, who had worked cleaning homes for the rich most of her adult life, had recently switched careers after a lot of training to become a photographer. She was currently employed at the local Sears portrait studio, a job she claimed was a stepping stone to starting her own business.

I hated her current boss and I had no intention of setting foot anywhere near their studio.

So, stupid me, I decided to research my dad's work, big mistake, _huge_ mistake - because it turns out my stupid dickwad of a father had another family.

That's right, the fucker had two families at the same fucking time!

*****umlm*****

"You always tole me you didn't fuckin' believe in marriage!"

"Watch your language Jasper Robert Whitlock! You're not too old for me to get out the soap," she warned.

"I will watch my fuckin' language, when you fuckin' explain how you lied to me my entire life," I mumbled. I wasn't afraid of Momma, but when she called me by my full name I knew I needed to watch my step. And the soap threat wasn't an idle one.

"Sweetie," Momma's voice softened. "I know this is a shock to you, but sit down and let me explain the situation better."

_How can you explain that you knew Dad was a polygamist? _

Well not technically a polygamist, since he hadn't actually _married_ Momma.

If he had, I'd have been a Hale, not a Whitlock.

*****umlm*****

"Where did you hear about this?"

"Why does it fuckin' matter," my mouth spun out forgetting to watch the swearing. The look of fury that switched on in Momma's eyes snuffed out my fight. "Sorry," I mumbled. "Google."

"You are trying my patience Jasper. Stop with the smart mouth. How did you find out about your father?"

"Google," I repeated and sighed. _How was this important?_ "It's a search engine you can use to search the Internet."

"Oh," Momma responded. "I didn't realize Robert was that famous. Can anyone look this information up?"

Momma was a little behind in technology. She didn't own a cell phone or computer. I was surprised she'd even heard of the Internet.

"He's not famous," I tried to explain. "You can find information on just about anyone on the Internet. I did a Google search on his name and company and found his company website."

"I don't understand, on this company website it tells you about his wife?"

"No. There was a link on the site to press releases. One was 'bout a new branch openin' in Tallahassee and in the picture…" Even though she'd apparently known about this other family I had trouble saying what I'd seen. "…_he_ was cuttin' the ribbon, and standin' next to him was a lady and a girl."

Momma's face blanched and for the first time since we'd started this conversation she looked hurt.

"How did you know? You know, that it's his wife?" Momma whispered quietly.

"In the article it said he attended the opening with his wife _and_ daughter."

I closed my eyes so I didn't have to see her reaction.

"Momma, she _looks_ like me."

_*****umlm*****_

Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to all those who are reading/reviewing/alerting etc. my latest fic.

This is unbeta'd and not pre-read by anyone. All mistakes are my own.

MA: This story will have explicit and lemony scenes. If boy x boy relations offend you please don't read any further.

Characters belong to S. Meyer.

_*****umlm*****_

**[year: 2000 – Jasper age 13]**

"Aren't ya gonna answer that?" Thomas asked.

It was understandable why he wondered. The phone had been ringing on and off for the last five minutes. Each time it would transfer to voice mail and there would be a pause, then it would start up again. The repeated ringing was getting on my fucking nerves.

"You know who it is?" my friend questioned.

_Of course I fuckin' do._

It was my dad and I had shit to say to him.

"It's my dad. I don't wanna talk to the asshole."

"Your parents gettin' divorced?"

Thomas' parents separated when we were in grade two. Him and his sisters split their time between two houses. Luckily his parents are okay to each other and they agreed to live in the same neighborhood.

"Somethin' like that. They were never married, but yeah they aren't together anymore."

It was nice to tell someone a bit of what was going on. I couldn't tell Thomas the whole story; it would sound too much like a Jerry Springer episode.

In some ways I was lucky.

Most likely the real story would never make the gossip circuit at school. No one knew my dad's last name, my friends have always called him Mr. Whitlock, and he'd only spent the odd weekend with us, so my friends never got to know him.

_Hell, I didn't apparently fuckin' know the guy either. _

"That's tough," Thomas commiserated. "Your dad's fault?"

The phone started ringing again and we looked at each other and smiled.

"Why woulda think that?" I said deadpanning.

We'd been friends for years and Thomas knew me well. I held a serious face for all of two seconds and then we laughed together.

"Yeah," I coughed. My smile quickly wiped away as I measured how much I wanted to share. These days I couldn't stay lighthearted for long. "He's got another woman." _And another kid._

"Oh shit." Thomas' expression turned somber again. "Are ya gonna hafta move?"

"Naw, he's always travelled a lot for work and that won't be changin'. I'll be stayin' with Momma as I always have."

_*****umlm*****_

"Did ya see how Ashley was dressed this mornin'?"

"No," Tracey responded, shifting toward me in anticipation of a good story.

I always had the most excellent stories. My ear was _always_ to the ground.

There were five of us hanging out together below the willow tree next to the football field. We were waiting for Coach to call out how many laps he'd want us to run this afternoon. Three of us went to Northbrook Middle School and the other two were from Sacred Heart. We'd all grown up playing Pop Warner football and had been on the same team since Junior Pee Wee. Tracey had only just squeaked under the weight limit for Midget this season. We'd probably be split up for the first time next year because he was such a monster.

""Her ass was hangin' out of the shorts she was wearin' and Van Buren made her change before the first bell. That's why she was wearin' those crappy lookin' sweatpants. Van Buren fished them out of the lost and found box."

She really had looked idiotic. The pants were huge on her and had unidentifiable stains in odd places. _Eck_. I shivered with revulsion.

"Fuck no, how'd I miss that?" Tracey complained.

"You miss everythin' bro," I commented. Tracey was quick on the field, or when it came to eating, but with anything else he was slow as fuck.

"How much of her ass coulda see?" Corey asked. He was one of the Sacred Heart boys and he probably didn't even know who I was talking about. Thirteen year old boys were the worst for living vicariously through each others' experiences, probably because so few of us actually experienced anything worthwhile for ourselves.

"Enough to know she couldn't have pulled it off with anythin' other than a thong, or maybe she was goin' commando," I smirked, knowing the reaction I was going to get from my friends.

"Fuuuuck," moaned Dillon. "Did ya pop a boner? I don't think I coulda seen a good lookin' girls' naked ass cheeks and not had some sorta reaction."

"Nope," I popped the 'p' as I answered. I'd been waiting for the right time to tell my friends I was gay, but it was awkward and I didn't know how to bring it up. For the moment I lived with dropping all kinds of hints. "She's not my type."

"Shit, you got better control than most of us," admitted Tracey. "I don't have a type when it comes to seein' an ass. Any chick's ass, well except maybe a fat cow like Jordan," he shook his head in disgust at the image he must have provoked in himself. "And _Ashley_ has a grade 'A' ass. Last week I had to hide a stiffy when Crystal bent over to pick up her pencil in Math class, and _she_ doesn't have an ass like Ashley."

Soon they were all coming up with stories about boners in embarrassing situations.

If I had wanted to participate I'd have to make up a story, or tell them one that involved Matt and showering after gym class. They weren't fucking ready for that kind of sharing. Damn, it was depressing to think they might never be. My momma was the only one who knew my fucking secret. I'd told her when I was eleven and she was completely supportive.

"Yo guys, I want three laps pronto," yelled Coach Roy, interrupting the discussion that had unfortunately evolved into what girls had the nicest boobs.

Even though three was a reasonable amount, and there were times Coach would have us run six or more, we all still grumbled and complained as we stood up and stretched.

When I started to run I glanced over at my friends, guys I'd known practically my whole life, and wondered which ones would stick by me when I came out.

_Would I still be friends with any of them in high school?_

At Northbrook, there were the typical suspects people whispered about as being gay, probably as many as any other public middle school. Sometimes they were harassed or the term 'fag' got thrown around, but most days our school was generally respectful. I didn't know firsthand if any of those guys really were gay, and I didn't have that much interest in finding out. In truth, I didn't hang around the nerdy or artsy crowd and you didn't hear whispers about the guys I hung around, the jocks.

All through middle school I've had to listen to guys mooning over girls and hear their stories of hitting first or second base, even the occasional home run. Never have I had anything to share, nor do I imagine would my friends want to hear about it even if I did.

The worst days were those leading up to a school dance. Usually it was only one or two of the guys talking about their current girlfriend or an upcoming 'date', but when a dance was coming up it was _everywhere_. I couldn't escape the talk or energy that was chock full of hope and anticipation. Often times those were the days I feigned sick and stayed home to chill by myself. Momma was very understanding as long as I didn't fall behind in my school work.

Middle school was a lonely and fucking discouraging three years for me, it didn't matter that I was popular and had lots of friends.

_Was it too much to ask that my high school experience be different?_

_*****umlm*****_

Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

This is unbeta'd and not pre-read by anyone. All mistakes are my own.

MA: This story will have explicit and lemony scenes. If boy x boy relations offend you please don't read any further.

Characters belong to S. Meyer.

_*****umlm*****_

**[year: 2000 – Jasper age 13]**

"I don't think he's ready quite yet. Do you want to come in and wait?"

I was supposed to go out today to spend time with my dad. If I was a good son I'd have been waiting for him to arrive so she wouldn't have to deal with him at all, but I couldn't quite muster up the effort to hurry for _him_.

There is a quiet knock on my door and I hear Momma's soft voice calling to me.

"Jasper honey, your father is waiting."

"Momma? Can you come in here? Please?"

She probably already knew what I was going to ask, and although I knew her answer, I found I had to try one more time.

When she poked her head in I gave her my saddest, puppy dog eyes.

"Do I _hafta_ to go? I don't wanna see him," I whined.

She gave me one of her "don't' mess with me" looks and I know the answer's "no".

"But he's a fuckin' douche, and I shouldn't hafta waste my time with the asshole!" I spit out, maybe loud enough that he might hear.

"Jasper Robert Whitlock," Momma hissed. "You had better get your butt in gear and spend some quality time with your father. No matter what he's done, he _is_ your father and that is never, ever going to change."

"This is so fuckin' unfair!"

_*****umlm*****_

"So, I have tickets to the Astros/Cardinals game this afternoon. Have you seen a game at Enron yet?"

"No."

"Alou is back on the roster again. Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll get a home run today."

"So fuckin' what. I hate baseball."

That wasn't true at all and my dad knew I was a baseball fanatic. But going to the game with him today - it would fucking _ruin_ baseball for me.

Even though Dad had brought me to my favorite restaurant I could barely stomach half my burger. He made several more attempts at conversation, but I chose a new approach and ignored him as if he hadn't said a word.

I couldn't make it easy for him.

Not when he'd hurt Momma so much.

*****umlm*****

"Where does your _wife_ think ya are this weekend?"

He sighed like I was being a fucking pain in the ass.

"Jasper, can't we simply enjoy an afternoon of baseball."

"No. I think ya owe us some answers," I twist in my seat and stare at him with my arms crossed. There is no fucking way I was about to let him off scot free.

"Okay, I'll answer a few of your questions if you promise me you'll drop it for the rest of the afternoon and at least attempt to enjoy the game."

"Where does your wife think ya are this weekend?" I repeated. I didn't agree to shit and he was a dimwit if he thought I'd let him take pleasure in any part of our time together.

"Her name is Yvette, and she wouldn't care where I am at the moment," my dad answered sounding weary.

"So your _wife_ wouldn't have a problem if she were to find out who ya spend your time with when ya work out of your Houston office?"

"I know you can't understand this at your age, but sometimes relationships are complicated. Yvette and I are never on the best of terms and as much as I'm sure you don't want to hear it, I love your mom. I always will."

His answer only served to make me angrier.

A jolt went up my arm when I banged my fist on the arm of my seat and almost overturned my soft drink.

_What a fuckin' joke!_

"Jasper, pull yourself together!"

"So that's the best story ya could dream up? You and your wife are basically in a loveless marriage and Momma is your one true love? What a crock of shit! Good luck trying to convince Momma of that."

"Your mother knew about Yvette from the day we met. _She_ was okay with our…lives the way they worked."

Yeah he was trying to spin that shit so he sounded better. Like Momma was as guilty as him. What he didn't know, nor did Momma, was that I'd overheard Momma one night crying and spilling her guts to her best friend Sandra.

I knew the real story, and I can't even describe how awful it felt to hear how sad and lonely Momma was feeling. I felt helpless. From what I understood he'd told Momma some crap about having to stay married or he would lose his position within the company. She'd believed him when he had promised her that they only stayed married in name only.

_I call bullshit on all of it. _

If I was a second grader who didn't understand what it took to make a woman pregnant, _maybe_ I might have been fooled. But, if their marriage was business only as he'd claimed, how did Yvette end up pregnant at the same time as Momma?

I think that was the evidence that Momma couldn't overlook. You can't explain away a child who was conceived after they'd met. Uh huh, doesn't work that way.

We were better off without him.

How much would really change anyway? Momma and I have basically only had each other all these years. Yeah, _Robert_ (otherwise known as Dad) came around one weekend a month, and then there were times he hadn't return for several months. But, every time he stepped through that door, Momma and I had both thrown ourselves in his arms.

I cringed thinking about how happy I used to be seeing him.

That wouldn't ever be happening again. Sometimes I wished I could step back in time and have chosen Momma's work for my research paper instead.

_And I fuckin' thought he had to travel for business._

"_Okay_ with the way your lives worked? I _know_ she didn't know fuckin' squat about your other child! Or, did the fact that ya had another blond-haired, blue-eyed child in your exact image slip your mind whenever ya walked through our front door?

"Does _she_ know she has a brother? Maybe I should contact her, ya know, to welcome her to the family," I sneered.

"Shut the fuck up Jasper." My dad's voice was low and dangerous, like he was barely able to restrain himself from hitting me. His cool demeanor had slipped under a cloud of anger as he pointed his finger in my face. "I don't want to hear another word out of your smart mouth about my daughter. Leave _her_ out of this. Don't you ever try to contact her."

I'd thought he'd hurt me as much as he could. It was then I realized there was always another level of pain that could be reached, you just didn't know it until it happened. I brushed away the sting of a tear that gathered in one of my tear ducts.

_I guess I fuckin' know who he loves more. _

_I bet she's a real daddy's girl too._

_*****umlm*****_

Thanks for reading!

What's coming up? A few time jumps. I'm anxious to get us to present day and meeting Edward!

Chapter 4 -: **[year: 2001 – Jasper age 14] **

Guess who shows up uninvited at his door? Those of you reading _It's Waiting There For You _will have a distinct advantage in answering this question.

Chapter 5 – **[year: 2002 – Jasper age 15] **


	4. Chapter 4

This is unbeta'd and not pre-read by anyone. All mistakes are my own.

MA: This story will have explicit and lemony scenes. If boy x boy relations offend you please don't read any further.

Characters belong to S. Meyer.

_*****umlm*****_

**[year: 2001 – Jasper age 14]**

The girl standing in our doorway looked as if she could have modeled for Ralph Lauren or maybe Tommy Hilfiger. She had shiny, straight blonde hair that was slightly longer than shoulder length and as her ice blue eyes eyed me up and down I detected the slightest bit of disdain from the tiny pucker of a frown at the bridge of her nose. She was wearing a knee length knit dress that had an expensive look and it showed off her young, not quite full curves beautifully.

_I'd recognize that face anywhere. _

I waited patiently for the girl to vocalize the reason she'd ended up here in Houston on our doorstep. Being that she normally lived in Florida I knew it couldn't be an absurd coincidence that we ended up meeting.

"Hi," she finally offered, showing off a brilliant, white smile. "I'm looking for Robert Hale's son?"

A flash of surprise shot through me. _She didn't even know my name._

"Why?" I asked. For the first time a girl had piqued my interest. Of course it still wasn't in the same manner as most hormone-filled fourteen year old boys.

_How did Little Miss Preppy manage to find out about us? _

"It's personal. Does he live here?" She persisted.

I decided to play with her a little to find out why she was here. I still hadn't decided if I wanted to _meet_ her.

"Fuck yeah ya got the right abode. But if you're here to score some weed, he's only got enough shit for himself this week."

"What?" She looked like she'd been slapped. Two little circles of pink appeared on her cheeks. "No," she stuttered. "I…don't…he sells…drugs?"

I started to laugh my ass off. I wanted to hate her, but she screamed sweet and charmingly innocent. _And who can hate a lamb?_

"No, I was pulling your fuckin' leg. Did ya want to come inside?"

She craned her neck trying to see inside our house. "Is he here now?"

"Maybe," I admitted. _Will she ever put two-and-two together?_

"Maybe?" she asked, sounding slightly confused.

"Well, he'd probably want me to screen whoever was askin' for him. You know, to weed out door-to-door salespeople and undesirables," I joked.

"Oh, okay. Is it okay if my friend parks in the driveway?"

I peeked around her and sucked in a breath when I caught sight of a silver Land Rover that would have cost a pretty penny. _Sweet! Nice ride._ Another blonde girl was sitting in the driver's seat talking on a cell phone, looking slightly bored.

"Does she want to come in too?"

"No," she responded quickly. "Just me."

I led the way into the living room, but when I turned to ask if she wanted something to drink I noticed she'd stopped in the hallway and was studying the numerous pictures Momma had lined along the wall.

When she became aware of my presence by her side she glanced back and forth from me to one of my pictures from my middle school graduation.

_Bingo. I guess the jig is up._

"You dyed your hair," she commented. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I could," I shrugged. I wasn't about to disclose personal decisions with a stranger.

"Was it to look more like her?" she pointed to Momma in one of the pictures. Momma had rich dark hair that was almost black. "Or to look _less _like Daddy?"

*****umlm*****

She was still sitting in our living room when Momma got home from work. Her friend Madison who'd driven her had left already, having returned to their hotel room when Rosalie explained she wanted to stay for longer.

When Momma walked in and saw Rosalie she dropped her styrofoam cup of coffee, spilling the remaining contents onto our cream colored carpet.

"Wha…Wha…"

After that eloquent display of the English language Momma took off for the cover of the kitchen.

I followed her close behind.

"What is she doing here?" Momma asked.

"Not sure. Maybe half curiosity and half rebellious, sheltered teen girl syndrome."

"Rebellious, sheltered…never mind. Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Surprisingly a visit with my half-sister wasn't half the melodrama I'd imagined.

Momma followed me back into the living room.

I introduced them. "Rosalie Hale, Maria Whitlock."

Rosalie stood up and stepped forward with a shy smile, offering Momma her hand to shake.

"Hi Ms. Whitlock, so nice to finally meet you."

Her manners remained impeccable even though the situation was more awkward than my coming out in the boys' change room after gym class. I admired the way she remained positive and friendly. It wasn't the way I operated, but it worked well for her.

"Oh, nice to meet you too Rosalie." Even with the evidence of her previous life partner's infidelity standing directly in front of her, Momma was unfailingly polite. "When did you arrive?" Momma asked as she shot me a questioning look.

"I stopped by about an hour ago and Jasper has been kind enough to sit and talk with me."

The whole encounter was fascinating and so far I'd learned nothing. Somehow this tiny, perfectly coifed, whisp of a girl had interrogation skills to match Jack McCoy's. I'd revealed more than I would have wanted and she hadn't given me anything.

Some of the things she'd found out were virtually right in front of her. I was a natural blonde like Dad (she noticed in the pictures hanging), but I dyed my hair black and even tinted my eyebrows. I never went to school without outlining my eyes with a black liner and I have a tongue piercing.

Other information she learned by manipulating me into talking about myself. Somehow I ended up talking about how I hate all team sports, but I like to run cross country. How I spent last summer working at my uncle's ranch and loved riding horses. I even ended up telling her about the online role playing games I've recently started spending too much time on, and the fact that I hadn't yet had a boyfriend. Yeah, I told her I was gay – I didn't hide it from anyone these days.

"Does Robert know you're here?"

Everyone in the room knew the answer to Momma's question, but I figured she was asking so that we could get to the bottom of her visit.

"Oh no," she shook her head prettily. "Daddy has no idea. I told him I was going to the Keys for a weekend with Madison's family. They have a beach house there."

The fact that it was now Sunday and they'd never make it back home in time didn't seem to faze the girl.

Momma had no idea who Madison was, but I think she was willing to overlook the small details.

"We'd better call him then."

"Oh, okay," my sister replied, sounding mildly amused. "Daddy will flip his lid and ground me," she giggled, "but he's such a softy that it will never stick."

_I bet. She'll probably use an absurdly cute voice and bat her eyelashes and Dad will cave immediately._

*****umlm*****

Dad was understandably concerned with his fourteen year old daughter's road trip across three states and into a fourth. We could both hear his voice as Momma spoke to him on the phone reassuring him that she'd keep an eye on her.

Rosalie was given my bed and I slept on the couch. Her friend Madison, who it turns out is seventeen, stayed in their hotel room alone.

A knocking at the front door woke me up when it was still way too early for anyone to function.

I hadn't seen my father in over eight months. My stubborn refusal to have anything to do with him and my barely restrained hostility had worn him down. He called Momma on occasion to get the scoop on my latest teenage rebellion, but he no longer attempted to visit or contact me in any way.

The way his eyes zeroed in on my jet black hair reminded me he probably hadn't seen any of the physical changes I'd gone through. Momma might have told him about the hair, but she disliked it so much she refused to photograph me.

"Come on in. She's sleeping in my bedroom."

I left the door open behind me and slunk back to the couch to dive under the covers.

He followed me in and to my dismay he sat down in the La-Z-Boy recliner next to the couch. I covered my head to avoid his gaze.

"How are you son?"

I snorted and pulled the covers off my head.

"Son?" I responded, disbelief dripping from my tone. "Why don't ya go see _your_ daughter? I believe this fuckin' roadtrip was most certainly a cry for Daddy's attention."

"I know I deserve your derision, but is there any way we can move past this? I don't love Rosalie more than you. You are both my children." His tone was artless, but I didn't trust him.

_Actions speak louder than words._

"Do ya deny that you've spent way more time dotin' on her our entire lives, than ya ever have for me? Momma and I only ever saw you once a month for a couple of days. Ya spent all your time and…money on your other family."

"You're right I did. If I had to do it over I'd do some things a lot differently. But, it doesn't mean I don't love you. You have to understand Jasper, before the whole situation became transparent to everyone involved I never worried about you."

I interrupted, not wanting to hear more. I was angry that I'd let him get to me and the fact that his words were fucking hurt me again was ridiculous. I should have gotten over them already.

"Fuck off Robert. Go wake up Little Miss Florida Sunshine and get out." I rolled over to face the back of the couch and pulled the covers over my head again.

"Jasper, you didn't let me finish," my dad's voice sounded wounded. "I didn't mean I _never_ worried about you, what I meant was that I knew I didn't _have_ to worry about you. Maria is an excellent, loving mother and I had the utmost confidence in her parenting skills. I had no worries that you weren't being cared for in the best way possible."

I hadn't acknowledged him that I was still listening, but I'd frozen in place, wanting for some reason to hear what he had to say.

_I must be a total freak for pain._

"Rosie on the other hand, I always had to worry about. Yvette is not a natural mother. She is cold and distant, almost to the point of neglectful. I was the only acting parent if you want to get technical, and I needed to "dote" on her to make sure she knew _someone_ truly loved her. I might spoil her with money and gifts, but I still believe you have the better deal."

I listened to him, but all I heard were excuses.

I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to shut out the world.

_*****umlm*****_

Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

This is unbeta'd and not pre-read by anyone. All mistakes are my own.

MA: This story will have explicit and lemony scenes. If boy x boy relations offend you please don't read any further.

Characters belong to S. Meyer.

*****umlm*****

**[year: 2002 – Jasper age 15]**

When I reached the school property I slowed to a walk on the track and checked out the football players running blocking drills. Tracey noticed me right away and waved a greeting. He was an offensive lineman and he had once been the player who stopped the other teams from tackling me before I could throw a pass when we still played Pop Warner. Now he was on the high school team and one of their most talented players. While I had pretty much completely obliterated all ties to my old lifestyle, he was one of the few who hadn't let me throw away our friendship without a fight.

I nodded back, not wanting to draw attention to our interaction. The guy may have been huge and physically intimidating, but anyone can become a pariah if they became affiliated with me.

I flipped my middle finger at one of the receivers standing around listening to the offensive coach spew instructions, he was a punk prepster who'd tried to dunk my head in a toilet last week. He wasn't successful because he didn't expect me to hit him below the belt. His mistake.

"Hey Jasper," Coach Jones called out to me. "Come on over here, I have someone I want you to meet."

I glanced Coach's way and I saw he was with Mr. Shulman, the new teacher I'd noticed at the last school assembly. The new teacher was young and hot, and I didn't want anything to do with him. Half the girls at the school, heck more than half, were probably fantasizing about his grey eyes lighting upon theirs. It was sickening. The guy probably had a wife and kids.

"Later Coach, I need to go shower," I brushed him off. Coach was an okay guy, hell he put up with my emo, jackass attitude and hadn't kicked me off the team…yet. But, I didn't kiss anyone's ass, and I didn't want to meet Shulman.

Like the girls, there was something about the guy that stirred me up and the last thing I needed was to start lusting for a teacher.

*****umlm*****

"Mr. Whitlock."

"That's my name" I mumbled under my breath, not moving out of the chair.

"MR. WHITLOCK," principal Marchetti intoned. "My office…NOW."

_My office now._ I mouthed to myself in imitation of the man's stern tone as I stood up and stretched. _What a fuckin' wanker._

"Mr. Whitlock, this is the third time in a month you've been caught smoking on school property. You know the rules. A three-day suspension this time."

_Three days, okay I'll take the vacation._ I immediately began to plan the next Warcraft campaign I could play.

"Your mother has been called and she will be arriving to pick you up momentarily."

"Thank you SIR!" I shouted as if he were a drill sergeant. Marchetti looked like he wanted to lose it. _Gee, I thought it was funny._

"A suspension also means you can no longer participate in any extracurricular sports. You will not be allowed to travel to State next month for cross country."

That hurt –_ a lot_. I'd been training for State with a dedication I didn't put into anything else in my life. Heck, it was the only sport I'd kept after I'd come out as gay. I loved to run and I was good at it. Good enough to be the only Northbrook student to qualify this year. Coach Jones would be disappointed.

My face remained stoic with the news. I _never_ let anyone see me upset.

"Well, if ya don't wanna representative at State," I shrugged as if missing the race didn't bother me either way.

"I have one alternative," led Marchetti.

_An alternative? Okay fuck head, I'll bite_.

"What is it?" I asked with as little inflection as possible.

"Mr. Shulman has requested volunteers for the Trivia Team. When you get back after you serve your three day suspension, you join his team. They go to their first competition in three weeks. You give your full effort as a Trivia Team member and I don't see you in my office again, I'll grant you permission to attend State. How does that sound?"

_Ya gotta be fuckin' kidding me? Me and the Geek Squad? No fuckin' way!_

"He'll do it," Momma volunteered. _When did she get here?_ "It sounds like a good deal to me honey," she added as she squeezed my arm hard enough to send me the message.

_Okay Momma, I hear ya loud and fuckin' clear._

"Fantastic!" Marchetti enthused. "I'll let Mr. Shulman know."

*****umlm*****

"You have to do what?" laughed Tori, nearly spitting out her Diet Dr. Pepper. "Fuckin' Trivia?"

"Yeah," I mumbled. "Momma overheard Marchetti and I'm now a member of Dork Crew. This is really your fault Tori, I wouldn't have been smokin' if ya hadn't handed me your cigarette to finish when ya took off after Leo. I'd purposely stopped bringing my smokes to school," I whined.

"Oh fuck off Jazz. You could have butted it out – I didn't force it between your lips," she smirked.

I knew that smile. She looked way too pleased with herself.

"No ya didn't ya dirty tramp. Please tell me ya didn't blow that poor boy? He has a girlfriend!" Leo was a senior, on the football team and an honor student. He was considered a generally all-around good guy.

Tori shook her mane of flaming red hair and laughed. "I don't care that he has a girlfriend. Good for them. I wanted a taste test and I was right, it was delish." She ran her tongue over her lips and I cringed.

The girl had no fucking morals and took great pleasure in seeing what normal, upstanding guys would fall for her freaky offers of no-strings-attached sexual favors.

Even I could see she was up to her ears in daddy issues.

Still, she was one of the few that didn't act as if being gay was a contagious disease and what was that saying - beggars can't be choosers? I'd definitely been demoted to the beggars category and I had the bruises to show for it.

"So, do ya know anythin' bout Shulman?" I asked, fishing for the inside scoop. It was just my luck that the one guy who'd caught my eye in recent months was the teacher I'd be spending my time with every day after school.

"Shulman? Nada. The bimbos all swoon whenever he enters a room and junior Economics has a waitin' list for the first time in the history of Northbrook, but I haven't heard a thing bout him beyond the superficial. He the one in charge of Team Lamos?"

"Yeah, I hope he's not too much of an asshole. Talk to ya later Tor."

I pushed up from the picnic table and sauntered away, not waiting for her to acknowledge my departure. She could be a bitch that way. I was about ten feet away when she suddenly shouted out a name. I thought at first she was calling the person whose name she called.

"James!" Tori suddenly shouted. "Jazz, his first name is James."

_Why the fuck would I care what his first name was? The girl was even more of a freak than me._

I looked around to see several people staring at her with undisguised loathing.

_Mind your own fuckin' business assholes._

*****umlm*****

Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

This is unbeta'd and not pre-read by anyone. All mistakes are my own.

MA: This story will have explicit and lemony scenes. If boy x boy relations offend you please don't read any further.

Characters belong to S. Meyer.

_*****umlm***** _

[from previous chapter]

_"Mr. Shulman has requested volunteers for the Trivia Team. When you get back after you serve your three day suspension, you join his team. They go to their first competition in three weeks. You give your full effort as a Trivia Team member and I don't see you in my office again, I'll grant you permission to attend State. How does that sound?"_

**[year: 2002 – Jasper age 15]**

"Why are you even here? You don't have school spirit. Is this like some sort of_ detention_ for you?"

_It only took them three days to catch on __and they thought they were the intelligent elite of this school? God fuckin' help us. _

I didn't know the name of the guy who spoke up, but I'd nicknamed him Milton in my head. Yeah, you could probably guess what he looked like.

The rest of the group was composed of four other guys who were Milton look-a-likes, a girl Milton, and a girl who had spiky purple hair, three facial piercings, and an attitude like she was the queen bee of saving the fucking world.

I feigned surprise that they figured it out and then pretended to look guilty, as if I actually felt bad that they'd discovered the truth.

_Shit, this was too easy._

_Why shouldn't they know the __real__ reason I was part of the team?_

A nasally voice erupted. "Oh _great_. We have to put up with attitude from the criminal element because Mr. Marchetti decides to use the trivia team as a punishment? How is any of this fair to the rest of us?" demanded one of the angry Miltons.

The rest of the group broke in and starting shouting questions at Mr. Shulman. I didn't blame them for their frustration. Each and every one of them volunteered and supported the trivia team. I was here because I'd been blackmailed. I slipped out to have a cigarette and walked a healthy ten feet off school property before I lit up.

It was our third day practicing for the upcoming tournament and so far it had gone as well as I'd expected. I sat around listening to the team as they strategized how they would answer questions and then they spent the majority of their time practicing questions that Mr. Shulman would fire off in quick succession.

The first day I never spoke, I only sat in a slouch and glared at any of the team members who dared look at me. The second day I'd answered a few of the questions when they were directed to me specifically. And today, I decided to make my own entertainment by interjecting with answers that were in actuality a play-on-words, usually with some dirty connotation. I couldn't do it every time or they'd start ignoring me, so I had to throw in a few correct answers to keep them sharp. None of the team members appreciated my sense of humor, hence the disruptive argument brewing and the mini explosion that had been set off seconds before I left to smoke.

"Are you coming back in?" Mr. Shulman's voice surprised me. Apparently he had the stealth of a cat on the prowl.

My skin prickled whenever I heard him speak, and even after hearing him ask hundreds of questions it still had the same effect.

"Isn't better if I fuckin' stay away?" I threw in the swear word to show him I wasn't intimidated that he was a teacher. It was actually a struggle to conquer the sudden need to impress him and the swear word felt heavy as it passed by my tongue.

"Look Jasper, you didn't get assigned to this team because Marchetti was looking to punish you. I asked for you," he stated.

"Yeah right, what a fuckin' crock," I scoffed. My pulsed raced with what he'd just stated.

_He asked for me?_

I couldn't look him in the eye, I was too shook up.

_Why did he have to be so goddamn attractive? He was an old man for God's sake! _

Old was a slight exaggeration. He was probably a recent college graduate, but any age beyond the teen years seemed _old_ to me.

"No, I'm serious. This team has a severe weakness when it comes to history questions. No one on the team can answer a history question beyond what they'd taken in freshman year. We have math, science and literature all wrapped up with this group, but history was a major gap."

"_I_ wanted you on the team and I tried to introduce myself several times, but you are very good at the brush off. I'd talked to Marchetti about how to approach you and he must have decided to strong-arm you when the opportunity presented itself because you are so damn difficult to pin down."

"You wanted _me_…for the team?" I couldn't help the speculation from rising out of my voice.

"How? Why?" I asked. I was a bit stunned that anyone in this school thought I was worth anything more than being a punching bag.

_And History? How did __he__ know I had an interest in history?_

"Like I said, we had a weakness in history. I was talking with Jones because he teaches freshman history and he pointed me in your direction."

Of course it would be Coach Jones, one of the only teachers who'd ever noticed me beyond the superficial. I rubbed my forehead in frustration and butted out my cigarette.

"Okay," I responded. At least now I knew a bit of Marchetti's motivation for forcing me on the team. I kind of wondered because it had seemed so random and ridiculous with my record of poor grades and always causing a shit-storm of trouble.

"Okay?" he questioned. "You'll come back and help us out?"

His grey eyes were focused on mine and I could feel my face heat up under his scrutiny.

_Fuck that, I do NOT blush._

"Sure I'll help those losers out, but once State is over don't expect me to stick with it."

"How about we agree to wait and see? Maybe you'll find you like it after the first competition." He ran his hand through his short, dirty-blonde hair in what looked like exasperation.

"Not fuckin' likely."

*****umlm*****

"Don't you think it's about time to give up the war paint Whitlock?"

Days before the first trivia competition Mr. Shulman had taken to calling me by my last name. I hadn't heard myself called that since the summer before high school. By the end of the competition all the team members were calling me Whitlock.

It had felt like I _was_ part of a team again.

Now it was six months later, and yeah, I was still part of the Dork Team. The Miltons had even sort of grown on me. And while it was past the official trivia season, they'd insisted we had to meet once a week in the "off season" to keep our minds in shape. It was fucking funny how they truly believed their brain was a muscle that required conditioning. It was probably the only muscle any of them ever fucking used in their lives.

Mr. Shulman had cornered me alone after today's practice. If I had known he was going to psycho-analyze me I'd have come up with an excuse. Instead, I was predictably excited to have him single me out. I relished any moment I got to spend in his presence.

_Yeah – I had a fuckin' crush. It was inevitable really with the guy bein' so fuckin' hot. I _know_,__ what a cliché – with him being my teacher and all._

"What war paint?" I knew he meant the way I traced my eyes in black but I hated how he called it war paint; I bet he had no idea the real reason I do it.

"The black around the eyes. It looks dreadful and very juvenile," he commented in a conversational tone. "Don't you think you've made your point?"

"I do it because I like how it looks, not to make a point." I sneered, trying to hide the way his comments made me feel sick inside. I had come to expect insults from most people, but Shulman had proven to be different.

"Don't you? I always thought you wore it so that whenever you meet someone new there is no mistaking that you're gay. You can see immediately how they feel about you and you avoid getting sideswiped by a negative reaction from someone who hadn't realized your orientation. I'm guessing it probably happened one too many times and this is how you made sure it is the first thing they knew about you."

He'd never brought up the fact that I was gay before. It was strange to hear him acknowledge it so casually, and it was infuriating that he'd hit the nail on the head with his first guess.

_What was this guy – a fuckin' psychology major? I thought he taught economics?_

"You have no fuckin' idea," I denied as I quickly moved to exit the classroom. "Maybe I'm a huge fan of eighties new wave and Robert Smith is my idol."

"Eighties rock my ass," Mr. Shulman commented. "It's war paint. You want to intimidate anyone who doesn't feel comfortable dealing with your homosexuality. At least own the reason you do it."

I was floored. No one ever called me on my motivations and I didn't like it. Anger and embarrassment clawed into my chest and then promptly sunk down toward my abdominal region. It felt like one of my old ulcers was starting to burn again.

"It's not fuckin' war paint. And if you bring this topic up again I'm gonna halfta quit the team." I hated when adults tried to make me conform to their idea of what's acceptable and it was exceedingly painful to have this treatment from Shulman, someone whose opinion I'd come to respect.

_I'm the ONLY person who gets to decide what I look like when I leave my house in the morning._

"Whitlock wait!" Mr. Shulman called after me as I sped down the hallway to escape the feeling of humiliation he'd instilled within me. "I wasn't saying it to…"

I didn't hear the rest of his weak explanation as I pushed myself harder to reach the outside exit.

*****umlm*****

"Jasper," Mr. Shulman called out to me in the hallway a week later.

I pretended I hadn't heard him and continued on to my third period class. The embarrassment from my display of extreme over-reaction was eating away at me, but I still couldn't muster up the courage to let things slip back to normal. Everything about last week's encounter was entirely too painful for me to think about.

No doubt he was looking to find out why I hadn't showed up to the team practice last night.

"Jasper!" He called out again as I ducked out of sight down the hallway.

The fucker _was_ persistent. I'd escaped him before geography, but he caught up with me during my lunch period as I was leaving the boy's room, coincidentally enough I'd been in there to reapply my so-called "war paint".

"Jasper, stop avoiding me," he commented as he grabbed hold of my arm and practically dragged me toward an empty classroom.

I considered kicking him in the shins to get him to release me, but the warmth of his hand on my upper arm and the short burst of excitement that rippled through me at his continued doggedness to ignore my attempts at evasion prevented my foot from lashing out and assaulting him.

I glanced over at the taller man as he pulled me along the hallway and my heart started to thunder in my chest. Suddenly, the reason I was so hurt by his insensitive comments was entirely too obvious to me.

I was infatuated with the man.

_No fuckin' way! _

By the time he had the door unlocked and I was pushed into the room my face was flaming and I couldn't look him in the eye.

_Hopefully he mistakes my red cheeks for anger._

Shulman turned and promptly locked the door behind us without offering any sort of explanation. When he turned back he moved close to me and I felt myself shift defensively away from him.

"What the hell Jasper? Have you been avoiding me?"

"Yes," I admitted. "I didn't think you'd even notice."

"Of course I noticed. I thought we were friends?"

He stood still as a statue with his hands splayed waiting for my response.

I nodded and his shoulders relaxed with the tiniest motion.

He was right. We'd formed a friendship of sorts over the past six months. I'd even told him an abridged version of my family drama. No one. I mean _no one_ had ever been told any of that shit.

He crossed his arms as he peered down at me with the smallest pucker of a frown at the bridge of his nose. His shirt sleeves had been rolled up and I couldn't help but stare at his forearms.

_How could someone have such stunning forearms? Forearms – really Jasper?_

Not knowing how to react I stuck my hands in my pockets and rocked back and forth from my heels to my toes and back.

"So why then, did you take my comments about your… look, so offensively? I wasn't trying to be insulting. I only thought you should let go of some of the walls you'd built up."

I shrugged.

"Are you mad at me?"

I shrugged.

He uncrossed his arms and stepped a little closer. I almost thought he was going to pull me into him by reaching out and grabbing my shoulders, but I knew that was only my imagination taking off and getting the better of me.

"Please stop fucking shrugging and tell me you…forgive me."

_Forgive him? _

My eyes flashed to his and I could see he was being sincere. I took a step back, suddenly feeling dizzy.

I had been surprised both by Shulman's tone and the idea that he was seeking my forgiveness. It was an odd feeling to have an adult ask forgiveness. I'd waited years to hear my own father say those words to me and they still hadn't been offered.

_Please let me get through this without humiliating myself again._

"There's nothin' to forgive Mr. Shulman. I was acting like an idiot and I was bein' way too supersensitive. Ya'd think I'd have a thicker skin by now."

"Jasper, I've told you before, you can call me James when we're alone. No need to be so formal.

_James. __I wanted so badly to call him by his first name. _

"There is nothin' to forgive," I reiterated, while avoiding the use of any names.

My heart continued to pitter-patter at an accelerated rate.

"You're wrong. I had no right to judge you. Its' just that you make me so damn frustrated sometimes. You're smart as a whip, funny, and you have a great heart. But, you don't make any effort to excel in any of your classes, and you hide the real you behind a look and attitude that screams teenage angst. You could have friends, but you're too scared to try. You're drowning Jasper and you're damaging the very promising future you could have."

I took another step away from him.

_He says he doesn't want to insult me, but then he goes ahead and does it again._

_Scared? I'm not fuckin' scared. I'm fed up!_

"It's not a fuckin' look, _James_; it represents how I feel on any given day. I feel…_black_. And you're doing it again," I complained. "You're judging me."

"Sorry Jasper, I'm making a mess of my apology," he stated with a sigh of resignation and plopped himself down on the edge of one of the desks. The desk moved under his weight and scraped slightly on the floor.

My heart twisted at the tone in his voice. I didn't want to make Mr. Shulman upset, but I hated being lumped in with every other teenager. I liked that he was trying to see the real me under all my layers, but his expedition was making me skittish.

I closed my eyes and counted to ten. When I opened my eyes my anger had subsided enough, but the electricity running through my veins was making me jumpy. There was a strange feeling in the air that I couldn't identify.

Looking over at Mr. Shulman my gaze got caught in his and I couldn't look away. He had a way of staring back that made me feel good about myself for the first time. Like for once someone was seeing me for who I really was. I sat down at the next desk over.

"You're right. The liner is adolescent, but I'm not sure I'm ready to give it up," I admitted. "I've been wearing it for so long I'd feel naked without it."

"I understand why you like it," Shulman answered in slow thoughtful tone. "But, I hate to see you keeping yourself isolated. You built this wall around you and it's hard for anyone to get in. Now I don't mean this to be insulting, but do you have _any_ friends?"

"Of course I do," I quickly interrupted. I was persona non grata at the high school amongst the popular crowd, but I hung with a few freaks and now thanks to the trivia team, even a few geeks from time to time.

"I mean true friends who know the real you. Friends you can trust to be yourself"

"There are a few…" I muttered.

"Victoria Barnes and Jason Chambers are not what I would call trustworthy. They're beneath you and the kind of individuals you should really be stepping away from. _Trust_ _me_, ten years from now they will either be dead or in jail. They are going to fall down the well, and if you're close enough they'll pull you with them."

I didn't know what to say. Tori and J.C. were a few of the freaks who'd been cool enough to let me hang with them at school. I was grateful because in middle school I'd been anything but cool to J.C. He'd been a skinny runt of a kid who'd come to school with the same dirty shirt three days in a row. I hadn't treated him fairly when I was king of the jocks and yet he hadn't blinked an eye when I sat down next to him at his table in the cafeteria the second week of freshman year. He had every right to laugh in my face and kick me to the ground. Well he couldn't have kicked me down because I could still take him physically, but he should have spit in my food, or something. I deserved it.

When I didn't respond, Mr. Shulman sighed and stood up again.

"Think about it Jasper. You could have a bright future ahead of you, don't throw it away because some people were stupid and ignorant about your sexual orientation. I think you'd be surprised how many of your fellow students have become more open-minded as they grow older…the smarter ones at least."

He paused as he went to pass me and patted my shoulder.

I hadn't acknowledged his words of advice, but his hand touching my shoulder sent chills up my spine and goose bumps popped up all over my arms. I didn't trust my voice to sound normal so I merely nodded again and kept my gaze down.

"Okay bud. When I see you later are you going to continue to pretend I don't exist?" Shulman joked.

Again I failed to speak up, but this time I lifted my eyes as I shook my head 'no'. The grey in his eyes had darkened, but the slight crinkle at the edges told me he wasn't angry.

He nodded back with a slight smirk and then he unlocked the door and slipped out, leaving the door slightly ajar. As the buzz of the students in the hallway filtered into the room I continued to sit and contemplate everything he'd advised. Some of what he'd said made sense, but when I considered actually following through with some of his suggestions I suddenly felt sick and I wanted to skip my last few classes and go home to bury myself in bed.

_Why did everythin' in my life have to be so goddamn complicated?_

*****umlm*****

Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

I am posting this late at night and I'm totally dying to get to sleep. I will be responding to last chapter's reviews in the next couple of days – I really, really appreciated them. Sorry about the long time between updates! I hadn't stopped writing, but I was too tired to edit or post. I've been too wrapped up in watching the NHL playoffs with their ridiculous amount of overtimes and I can't seem to even see the words on my screen - I'm _that_ tired. Hopefully this paragraph makes sense in the morning...

There should be another posting later in the week.

This is unbeta'd and not pre-read by anyone. All mistakes are my own.

MA: This story will have explicit and lemony scenes. If boy x boy relations offend you please don't read any further.

Characters belong to S. Meyer.

I want to offer my very special thanks to all those who took the time to review and/or alerted/favorite'd – your support makes this all worthwhile.

*****umlm*****

**[year: 2003 – Jasper age 16]**

"Why were you drinking yesterday?" James demanded as he stood over me.

It felt like I was about to be scolded by my father and I fucking hated it.

I slumped down in my chair wishing I could turn back the clock.

Economics was my last class of the day and when I'd arrived today James had stopped at my desk and requested I stay after class. I was sure all my classmates were watching our interaction knowing exactly why this was being requested of me. From the whispers around me I deduced that the show I'd put on in yesterday's class hadn't gone unnoticed and everyone was making their own predictions about what my punishment would be.

Yet, even while I knew I was in trouble my heart raced out of control at the realization that I was going to be alone with James, and while the idea excited me my stomach was twisting up in knots because I knew I'd screwed up.

The shittiest part of it was that I hadn't ever planned to take an economics course, especially with James being the teacher, but James shrewdly knew exactly what to say to alter my opinion and had convinced me it was important. I had wanted to stick to history classes for my optional courses or if not history, then something easy. I was never a numbers person and I had always equated economics with numbers. James had appealed to my interests and stated that if I wanted a "comprehensive understanding of the motivations behind warfare" I needed economics. He said money and war went hand in hand and my lack of mathematical ability wasn't important. So I ended up taking his fucking class.

Returning to school after sharing a half bottle of Jack with Shannan under the bleachers hadn't been my smartest decision to date, but I hadn't wanted to miss _his_ class. The more inebriated I'd gotten the more I wanted to see James in the worst way. He was after all, one of the reasons I was drinking in the first place.

Up until this moment I was hopeful he hadn't realized drinking was behind my bizarre behavior in class yesterday. I was hoping he'd leave it alone. _Not fuckin' likely._ It was impossible to slip one over him; he was like Sherlock fucking Holmes if I even took even one step out of line.

What I couldn't understand was why he took such an interest in my fucking welfare. Over the past year I'd been uselessly attempting to keep my feelings from developing beyond lust, but his constant interest in everything I did was making it difficult to remain indifferent.

"I don't know," I stated, trying with difficulty to keep my eyes off the man's physique.

Having accepted the position of assistant track coach at the start of the year, James then successfully bullied me into trying out for a couple of the longer distance running slots. It hadn't been until after I'd made the team that I'd found out he'd been a triathlete in college. I was initially impressed that he still pushed himself physically and participated in marathons several times a year, however I soon began to realize his dedication was quickly becoming my own brand of pure, fucking torture.

Each practice I was forced to watch his lean calves and well-muscled upper thighs pumping in front of me and causing my own blood to pump to the wrong organ for running. For awhile I had to make a routine of heading straight home after practice so I could beat off in the privacy of my own shower.

Funnily enough, the torment I'd experienced had a positive effect once I realized the cure. Traditionally I'd always been a come-from-behind kind of runner and allowed other runners to set the pace; I'd then stalk them until I was able to run them down. With proper motivation I found I could set the pace and still win. This was actually beneficial for track since they often had various heats for each distance and time was the most important factor. With my new goal to become faster than James I became fanatical about increasing my speed for the specific reason of not having to follow James and witness his ass flexing and his thighs pumping. I had wanted to go back to a time when I had a less punishing relationship with my dick. It worked for awhile.

Now, as he stood as close as he was at this moment, I couldn't help but let my eyes drift over him and take in the way he looked positively sinful in his dusty blue polo. I shifted in my seat as I tried to ignore the way his presence always caused a stir in my loins and I nearly groaned out loud when I realized I'd probably need to make a trip to the bathroom to beat off before practice.

That was, if I wasn't suspended from the fucking team for drinking.

_Okay, that thought alone was enough to make me wilt._

"You don't know?" he asked in an angry tone with his teeth grinding together.

Disbelief was clearly missing so I could safely guess he hadn't fallen for my fake ignorance.

_Well, it's not like I can tell you my reasons._

"I was upset. It was a mistake," I muttered.

It was embarrassing to have him grilling me.

_If he suspected, why hadn't he turned me in?_

His eyes softened slightly and he shifted to sit down in the desk next to mine.

"What had you so upset?"

His tone was still hard but I could tell he was trying to keep his anger in check. I'd seen a similar look on his face the time our trivia team had totally ruined their chances of placing in the Fort Worth tournament because of arguments brewing between several of our teammates. At that time his only method of control had been to leave the room when he reached that likely-to-explode level.

I wondered what, if anything, would prevent him from blowing up this time.

"It's embarrassing…and personal," I added, hoping he'd leave it at that.

James crossed his arms as if to show he was serious and I couldn't help but stare at the way it made his arms and chest look so mouth-watering.

_I'm such a fuckin' pervert and droolin' over him is so **not** goin' to help in this situation._

"You're going to have to do better than that Jasper if you don't want me reporting you to Marchetti."

_He wouldn't! _

I ducked and shook my head, letting my blonde hair fall forward and hide my eyes.

"Come on Jazz you can talk to me about anything," James urged.

_Not about **this**._

"Honestly, I think I'd prefer you report me," I answered dejectedly, thinking about what a fucked up situation I was in.

I'd been so fucking stupid.

James leaned in closer and his tone turned gentle.

"Was it something to do with your dad?"

"No," I answered in a rush.

I hated that James knew how much my situation with Robert tended to screw with my head. Oddly enough, family issues as awful as they had been to experience, had never caused me to drink myself sick.

"It's only some fuckin' run-of-the-mill teenage experimentation. Go ahead and fink to your superior."

A flash of something crossed James face but it had been so fleeting I couldn't decipher the feeling behind it; in fact, I might very well have imagined it. He shifted in the desk, causing the seat to groan beneath him.

"Okay," James responded, his tone staying even and strong.

I didn't need an interpreter to read that he wasn't fucking bluffing this time.

"Stand up, we're going to go see Marchetti right now."

I didn't move from the desk. If I was already in trouble I didn't see why I needed to follow him as soon as he said to.

James strode to the door of the room and turned to usher me out. The look of surprise on his face when he realized I was still seated was comical and fucking priceless. The guy wasn't used to anyone defying him. I sat a little taller and tried to keep a strong face of defiance in both my expression and my body language.

"Am I off the team?"

_Wait for it. If he says 'yes' I need to keep my cool and** not** start crying like a baby. _

"Why were you drinking?"

"We've already been through this. I don't want to talk about it."

"Why were you drinking?" James repeated.

"No. Goin'. To. Say." I reiterated.

James strode back towards me in a quick, decisive stride and squatted in front of me.

"What could be so bad Jazz? I'm worried about you," he confessed. "You were drinking alcohol…alcohol during school hours and on school property. What or who would make you fuck up like that?"

I looked away while I challenged myself to keep any tears from forming by thinking of something benign, like reciting my oral Spanish homework in my head.

_Dónde está el baño? Te amo. Bien gracias, ¿y usted? ¿y tú?_

When I felt stronger and knew I had control over my damn tear ducts I brushed my hair out of my eyes and looked back toward James raising my eyebrow in a cocky gesture. I knew it would irritate him to no end.

"You are makin' this out to be a much bigger deal than it is. I was feelin' a little off and I made a shitty decision. I'm not perfect," I snorted. "It happens."

I shrugged to show him how I wasn't upset now. My nonchalance had to be played perfectly as James seemed to have the uncanny ability to read me like a lie detector.

He sighed, closed his eyes and dipped his head back. His hand reached up and covered his eyes and I couldn't take my fucking eyes off of him. Even as frustrated as he was, he was so damn hot. I started to imagine stepping behind him and touching those gorgeous shoulders as I leaned in to…

"You have to stop staring at me like that," James whispered harshly, breaking me from my trance.

_Fuck! How could I let myself slip like and stare at him like a moony-eyed fuckin' dipshit?_

I shot out of my seat and rushed the door. I hoped each foot of space I gained between us would lessen the humiliation that resided in the room behind me. As my feet pounded down the hall toward the closest exit I could hear James calling after me.

"Jasper hold up!"

_Not a fuckin' chance. Why would I? So I can further relive the embarrassment of being caught oglin' my teacher, or wait even better yet, so I can go to the principal's office and get kicked off the fuckin' team? _

_Why the fuck would I hang around for that kind of shit?_

*****umlm*****

An hour later a knock on our apartment door startled me. I peeked through the eyehole and the person standing there caused my heart to beat rapidly and my knees to feel weak.

_How the hell does he know where I live? Why would he come here? _

Another round of hammering forced me to consider opening it. If it weren't for Mrs. C in 308 I'd have ignored him, but we'd already received too many noise complaints about my loud music and our landlord had given us several warnings.

I cracked the door open and avoided looking into his face.

"Why are you here?"

I hated how my voice crackled with pain and uncertainty.

"Aren't you going to ask me in Jasper? It's the polite thing to do," James pointed out.

I moved aside as James pushed the door open enough to slide through and I watched as he looked around the small but cozy living room. Momma and I had moved here after her and dad broke up and she made the decision to no longer accept his financial support. We'd given up a beautiful two-storey house in a middle-upper-class neighborhood, but if Momma was happy with her independence you wouldn't find me complaining.

"Is your mom home?" he inquired.

_Was he here to talk to her? Wouldn't it have made more sense to call her and set up an appointment to meet at the school?_

The idea that Momma would find out about me drinking was terrifying. I won't lie; the woman scared me when I got into trouble.

"No. She's never home before eight or nine on any weeknight."

Since it was only six o'clock there wasn't much chance he'd wait her out.

"Good," he answered. "You're alone?"

_Good?_ Suddenly I wondered why the fuck he was here.

"Yeah," I answered in hesitation.

He looked around the room again and then moved to sit down languidly on the sofa. He gestured to a spot near him and I understood that he meant for me to sit next to him.

"What are ya doin' here?" I asked again as I slowly travelled toward the spot he'd indicated.

"I want you to talk to me. Tell me what happened. You've made great improvements this year, but getting drunk was very stupid and a huge step back. Who were you with?"

I could feel how his gaze never wavered from me as he tracked my progress across the room and I purposefully chose the far side of the sofa, not wanting to sit too close. My earlier humiliation was still too fresh and I wondered how much James had read from my lustful gaze.

_Did he suspect I had feelings for him? _

It was fucking mortifying to think of the way he'd caught me staring. I'd worked so hard to keep my attraction toward him concealed.

_Would he bring it up? _

_God I fuckin' hoped not. I fuckin' hoped we could leave it as a big fat elephant, or better yet, buried six feet under._

"It wasn't that big of a deal. I was feeling confused and upset. The drinking part just… happened."

"Drinking at your age doesn't _just happen_," James countered. "Where did you get the alcohol from? Who were you with?"

Over the last summer I'd shaved my head and shed the dark hair, eyebrows, and the lacquered eyes. By the time the new school year started I'd grown out enough blonde hair for a barber to style it and I'd made a few new friends; ones that had met with James' approval. None of them were from the popular crowd, but they were all decent people. Good students, relatively geek free, and most importantly, none of them were considered delinquents.

Shannan was one of those new friends and she was the only one who knew about my feelings for James. Yesterday at lunch she'd noticed my agitation as I approached our usual lunch table and she'd dragged me away. We driven to her house and instead of lunch we impulsively decided to filch the whiskey from her step-dad's stash in her basement and brought it back to school to drink. We'd spent hours under the bleachers drinking and lamenting about our failed or impossible romantic lives. The burn of the whiskey and the eventual lightheadedness proved to be an excellent distraction from the embarrassment of how I'd treated Trent and my perverse interest in a man who was far from being an appropriate romantic interest.

"Trent kissed me," I confessed quickly in a whisper.

_Oh fuck. I so didn't want to share that with HIM._

Trent was another of my 'new' friends this year. I hadn't known Trent was gay. My guess was he'd always been in the closet. He was a nice enough guy and not bad looking, but I wasn't attracted to him that way. It had happened when we'd been hanging out in my room playing Call of Duty. One minute I was watching him getting shot up and the next he was easing himself closer and then leaning in to kiss me.

It was totally unexpected and I freaked out.

_Had Trent thought it was okay to take liberties because I was gay? Or, did I seem that hard up that a simple request to find out my interest before kissing me was considered unneeded?_

My brainless overreaction had actually made Trent cry and, since I had no idea how to handle sensitive shit like that, I almost fucking clobbered him. Why the fuck I thought hitting the guy would get rid of the crying was a mystery even to me. Not long after, minus the violent impulses, I was able to usher him out of the apartment without a word of comfort.

I can't fake insightful or empathetic, maybe it's because of the isolation from my peers for so many years. _Most likely it's because I'm a dimwitted, fuckin' prick._

Needless to say, I hadn't felt comfortable sitting across from him at the lunch table after that experience and I doubted he'd want me there either. I wasn't sure if he'd shared my idiotic reaction with the others, but I knew the fucking tension I'd felt as I approached the table hadn't been imagined.

_Another fuckin' group of people I've alienated._

"Why would that cause you to drink?"

_Because I realized how stupid I was to fall in love with my teacher._

"I like Trent; he's a good guy, and not bad looking."

"But…?" James led.

_Here goes nothing._

"But, I realized I can't ever feel that way about anyone, not when I'm already in love with someone else, someone completely and utterly unattainable. I was drowning my fuckin' pathetic sorrows with a little bitta drinkin'. Can't you look the other way?"

I looked into James' eyes trying to tell him silently what I couldn't out loud. I hadn't planned to confess my feelings today. Or ever. But I was sick of forever living with that little twinkle of hope that he could feel the same way. I needed James to shut me down and I wanted to fuckin' try and move on.

I would have welcomed a punch in the face if that was what it took to relieve me of those ludicrous feelings. It was fucking ridiculous how much time I'd spent fantasizing about a future with a man who was essentially off limits. What I wanted was against the fucking law and I'd never want to put James' job or freedom in danger.

Add that to the fact that I didn't even know if he was gay.

_What the fuck was I thinking?_

I shifted my eyes away from his and suddenly hoped my eyes hadn't been as telling as I originally aspired.

I could feel James move closer on the sofa and I wondered if this was where I'd get another beating. I kept my posture as stoic as possible, but there was nothing I could do about the way my head had started to pound. A beating I could take, it was the hateful words that always stung and never completely healed.

_He's a teacher; he's not goin' to fuckin' touch you._

But I'd been blindsided by violence before and I couldn't quite believe my attraction to a straight man wouldn't have some sort of negative implication. Having experienced hatred from guys I'd been friends with for over a decade for nothing more than admitting I was gay, I had a hard time trusting that I wouldn't get some sort of unpleasant reaction in this case.

James felt so close I had to close my eyes and when he started to whisper to me I whimpered trying to shut out the detestable things he might say.

"What are you trying to tell me," James asked softly.

It took me a few seconds to realize he hadn't spit any of the vile things I'd been prepared for.

_Did he ask me somethin'?_

"Huh?" I asked in surprise.

I risked taking a peak at him and I was overwhelmed by the look of interest in his eyes. My pulse raced, sweat formed on my temple, and I started to feel an odd flutter in my chest.

"I…uh…fuck…I wasn't tryin' to tell ya anythin'."

_What a fuckin' chickenshit you are Jasper Whitlock – you might as well be a fuckin' chick._

_Yeah, but if he is gay and he does want more – what would make that situation acceptable? _

_Nothing. Nothing was the only answer I could come up with. Nothing would make it okay._

*****umlm*****

Thanks for reading and send me your thoughts!


	8. Chapter 8

**If you're under eighteen please don't read this chapter.**

This is unbeta'd and not pre-read by anyone. All mistakes are my own.

**MA:** This story **has** explicit and lemony scenes. If boy x boy relations offend you please don't read any further.

Characters belong to S. Meyer.

*****umlm*****

[previous chapter]

_I risked taking a peak at him and I was overwhelmed by the look of interest in his eyes. My pulse raced, sweat formed on my temple, and I started to feel an odd flutter in my chest._

_"I…uh…fuck…I wasn't tryin' to tell ya anythin'"_

_What a fuckin' chickenshit you are Jasper Whitlock – you might as well be a fuckin' chick._

_Yeah, but if he is gay and he does want more – what would make that situation acceptable? _

_Nothing. Nothing was the only answer I could come up with. Nothing would make it okay._

*****umlm*****

**[year: 2003 – Jasper age 16]**

"_Oh God James_," I breathed, as he flexed his second finger in. The burn is stronger this time, but there is no way I would put the brakes on this. I'd be fucking crazy to give up this opportunity - it's my favorite fantasy come to life.

"Jasper, you're so fucking tight man," James whispered in my ear, his breathing is harsh and I can feel every push and pull of his digits. "I can't _wait_ to feel this heat around my cock."

My own erection had withered when he started prepping me but to my relief it was now gaining a healthy resurgence.

_I guess I fuckin' like dirty talk._

"_Please_," I groaned out. "_More_."

It was four months after James had confronted me about the drinking episode at my apartment. I hadn't had the bravery to admit my feelings at that time and I continued on the road of denial for a few months more.

The day after he left my apartment James followed through with his threat and I was brought before Marchetti for being drunk during school hours. There wasn't any proof, but when James offered to bring in other students from my economics class to bear witness to my 'drunken' behavior I caved. The only part of the whole debacle that I could take pride in was the fact that I never gave away Shannan's involvement. A fact that seemed to particularly irk James to no end.

I was kicked off the track team and much to Momma's disappointment I had my first three-day suspension in more than a year.

I thought the adults had it all backward.

_Didn't they see that removing a student from athletics might only push someone to do more fucked up stuff with all that extra time?_

At one point Momma even blamed herself for my behavior and promised to spend more time at home with me. There wasn't one part of the whole episode where the blame could be placed with her, so I resolved to stay out of any more trouble, at least for her own piece of mind.

Running soon became a thing of the past. It was off season for cross country and I didn't run with the track team anymore. With no sports to participate in I couldn't find the motivation to do anything physical. And, since I no longer worried about running times I went back to smoking, probably too much. I contemplated getting a part-time job, but I lacked motivation and never ended up looking. Robert still sent me money on a regular basis so it wasn't like I needed it for the money.

School was still tolerable, but I'd let most of my new friends go. The atmosphere around the lunch table had become incredibly uncomfortable, and I took to spending my free hour in the library. The idea of inviting friends over had lost its appeal and I'd spent more and more of my time alone. I soon had a routine of going straight home from school, finishing my homework and then spending the rest of the night online playing Warcraft. It was the one place where I felt comfortable in my own skin.

In the six weeks after I quit the team I lost about ten pounds. You'd think with all the sitting on my ass I'd have gotten fat, but I hadn't had an appetite and the smoking helped curb the impulse to snack. A lot of my muscle mass was disappearing and I found it depressing to look in the mirror.

It was on a typical Tuesday afternoon that James stopped by the apartment again.

*****umlm*****

"What are ya doin' here?" I asked him, surprised as all fuck at the man standing in my doorway. I hadn't spoken to James since I'd been kicked off the team except to answer questions in his class. The way he'd turned me in to Marchetti felt like a betrayal, especially considering I'd confided more in him than I had in anyone else. Most days I was angrier at myself for trusting him; I should never have forgotten he was a teacher. I'd even stopped going to the weekly trivia team practices. The Miltons had been pissed at first, but then they'd replaced me with a sophomore who probably was a better fit anyway.

"Go get some shorts on and get back out here," James ordered.

I looked him up and down and realized he looked dressed to run. I resisted the urge to lick my lips while I eyed his strong, tanned thighs.

"Go away," I protested. "In case ya hadn't realized, I don't run anymore. Someone kicked me offa the team."

"No one kicked you off," James scoffed. "You brought it on yourself. Stop with the emo moping, I'm surprised you haven't gone all black again. Go and get some shorts on, we're going on a run."

"Fuck off," I responded, moving to slam the door in his face.

He pushed back before I could get the door shut completely and since he was stronger than me he was inside without much of a struggle.

"You need a kick in the butt and I'm making it my mission to get you back into shape. We need you on the team next year. That means you have to start running now," he explained.

I stared at him in amazement. _He really fuckin' expected me to run with him? _

"Get the fuck out!" I yelled, no longer caring if Mrs. C. even called the cops for the ruckus we were causing.

"Get out! Get out!" I shouted as I pushed at him to move. James was too muscular for me and he didn't budge.

"Calm down Jasper, I'm only trying to help you."

"You're a stupid, fuckin', asshole of a teacher," I shouted and then I don't what I thought would happen but I swung.

It was pure instinct and my adrenaline was soaring.

Before my fist could connect James had his arms around me, removing any opportunity to hurt him. I struggled against his embrace but he was way too strong and I huffed in anger as I tried a final time to twist away.

"Why won't ya leave me alone?" I panted.

"Jasper, you're letting yourself go and I can't let you do that without a fight. You're worth too much to give up."

"I'm worth fuckin' zilch. You'd fuckin' vomit if ya knew the way I used to think of ya," I confessed.

James took a sharp breath and I could feel his arms loosen around me. It took me several seconds to realize what I'd possibly revealed.

"How did you think of me?"

"Oh fuck," I groaned. "Ya don't want to go there…_Mr. Shulman_."

"Uh oh, that bad huh?"

I shook my head but resisted from looking at him. "Let go of me," I asked quietly.

He let his hands drop from me and stepped back. I instantly missed the feel of his skin against my body, but I knew it was going to get infinitely colder in a moment.

"I'm gay," I declared solemnly.

"I _know_," James snorted.

I looked over at him and noticed his eyes now held a hint of amusement. Feeling somewhat bolder I continued.

"I find you attractive."

James frowned a little, just the smallest crease between his eyes. Then by some miracle his mouth broke out into a grin. He was so fucking cocky and I wanted to lean in and kiss him – _just_ to make him sweat.

"Ah, I see. You_ like_ me. Well I'd be disappointed if you didn't. I'm irresistible you know. Haven't you heard, I'm a t.i.l.f." he smirked even further, his eyes dancing.

_What the fuck?_

"It doesn't bother you?" I asked in disbelief.

"Not in the least," he answered quickly. "Now go get your shorts on, you have some miles to catch up on."

I turned to walk to my room and obey his latest command, but then I turned with one last question.

"Are _you_ gay?"

James tsked at me before answering. "You know better than that Jasper. I'm a teacher, we need to keep my private life out of our conversations."

More confused than ever, I stumbled to my room to change.

*****umlm*****

Months of running together three times a week and I wasn't any closer to discovering the mystery of James' sexual orientation, but we'd grown closer in other ways. After every run we'd stop at my empty apartment and take turns showering. More often than not I had to jerk off to wind myself down enough to be around him. Then we'd relax and watch some television. Sometimes I even cooked us some dinner. It was a strange relationship to have with a teacher, but I wasn't about to question it because I didn't want it to ever end. I never breathed a word to anyone; no one had a fucking clue.

Our relationship tipped toward something more than friendship on the day I walked in on James undressing for his shower. Embarrassed and contrite for having invaded his privacy I stammered out an apology and started to back out, but I couldn't help but give a quick, extremely brief, flitting of my eyes across his naked body before I left. Two things stuck with me, he was hard, like full blown erection pointed right the fuck at me hard, and his eyes didn't look upset, they looked…lustful.

I shut the door behind me and shuffled back to my room, my thoughts cloudy with the images I couldn't erase and my heart pounding with the possibilities.

_Was James gay? Could it be that he felt an attraction to me?_

My own dick was as hard a rock and I moaned as I ran my hand across the front of my gym shorts. I'd never had the experience of feeling anyone else's hand on me and I suddenly felt wanton with desire. I wanted to go back to him and see what could happen.

_Would he get angry with me? _

I didn't have to make the decision. As I stroked myself through my shorts, my door opened quietly and James slipped in. There was no time to stop or be embarrassed by what I was doing because it was only a matter of seconds before his hand joined mine causing me to almost fucking cum instantly.

I didn't, no _couldn't_ think about the consequences of what we were doing. I mean _fuck_, James,_ James_, had _his_ hand on my erection.

_Who in their right mind could ever complain about this situation?_

I moaned with a mix of delight and leaned in to kiss him. When he returned my kiss with a fevered pitch our relationship soared to a whole new fucking level.

Probably a level it never should have reached.

*****umlm*****

"I'm ready, _please_," I whimpered into James' mouth. He had my legs pulled up on his shoulders and he'd curled his third finger up to stroke that wonderful spot inside that was making it a motherfucking bitch to keep from cumming all over.

"Okay," he whispered, his voice sounding as if he were almost out of breath.

He gave me a quick final peck on the mouth and let my legs slip down off his shoulders. Reaching for the condom on the bed beside us, I ripped it open and passed it to him, anxious that he was going to change his mind.

It was two weeks since the fateful day I walked in on him naked and we'd fooled around a lot. James was a master at getting me off. I knew he must have acquired those skills firsthand, but I didn't care. He was with me now and that's all that mattered.

"Are you sure Jasper?" James questioned as he stared into my eyes with an intensity that made me squirm.

"Ab-so-_fuckin_'-lutely," I responded forcing his fist to close around the condom. "Come on James, _fuck_ me already."

He rolled it on quickly and he squirted more lube into his hand and pumped it over his condom covered erection. He then flipped me over and pulled me up on all fours.

I was so fucking turned on I didn't know if I would last more through more than a few pushes. He lined up his cock with my stretched hole and slowly pushed in as I held my breath. He was big, but he'd prepared me well and I hardly felt the burn. Once he'd pushed past the first ring of muscle he paused and waited for me to adjust to his size.

_Oh fuck he's inside me._

The way he'd taken the care to make sure my first time wasn't any more painful than it had to be left me with an indescribable feeling of warmth in my chest. He _always_ took care of me.

_I love you James._ I didn't dare tell him.

"I love feeling you inside me," I declared. It was the closest I'd come to confessing my true feelings and even though he'd never said those three words I knew in this moment that he felt it too.

As soon as I felt ready I began to push my ass back toward him and he set a moderate pace.

I'd never felt so full and _wanted_.

"_So_ tight, God Jasper."

His words turned me on more and I could feel my heart racing in response.

He was so fucking popular with students and teachers alike that I still couldn't believe he wanted me, the outcast of the school. I wasn't about to question the gift horse I was receiving.

_Is it wrong to thank God for this man?_ _Yeah, maybe a little bit inappropriate._

His hands gripped my hips and I hissed in pain when his fingers dug in.

"Sorry," he panted as he loosened them a little.

I could feel, no _really_ feel the satisfaction of each push inward. But it wasn't enough. I wanted more. I wanted him to leave me walking funny tomorrow.

"No, move faster," I grunted. "Really fuck me," I urged him on.

I dropped my arms and tilted forward so I could grasp my own cock and relieve the need for some friction of my own. The change in position caused James' cock to hit my prostate and after only a few pumps with my fist I was unloading all over my sheets.

"Holy _fuck_ James!" I declared.

His pace picked up furiously and my ass finally started to hurt. He slowed down for a moment as he ran one hand down my back and over my ass causing me to shiver with want.

"I really shouldn't be doing this with you Jasper, but you are so fucking beautiful, inside and out."

I felt a twitch in my chest and I couldn't help but smile. I raised myself up higher and turned my head so I could reach his lips. He groaned as my tongue quickly sought his and he stopped moving to kiss me hard and fast.

Satisfied that we'd reconnected, I turned back and assumed my position. James gripped me harder at the hips again and this time he really started to pound into me. His skin slapped loudly against mine and I could hear myself making obscene noises that I could do nothing to stop. It didn't take him long at that pace to reach his climax and I reveled in the ability to feel his dick pulsing inside me, filling up the condom.

I literally fell down on the bed as his erection slid out and I rolled to my side. James collapsed on top of me in exhaustion, his sweat rubbing off on my shoulder and part of my back.

"Are you okay?" James asked after moving off me and propping himself up on one elbow.

"Fuckin' fantastic," I replied with a stupid smile on my face. "You?"

"The same," he answered back as he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling in my bedroom. He pulled off the condom, tied up the end and then flicked it in my trash can.

"What time will your mom be home?"

"Probably not for another couple of hours."

Without having absolute knowledge of exactly when Momma would be home, we'd always taken precautions so we wouldn't get caught. We only fooled around in my bedroom with the door locked and a chair propped under the doorknob,_ just_ in case. James always brought his shoes and coat into my room and never left anything of his around the apartment.

If we were hanging out and watching television, I always made sure the deadbolt was locked, giving us the extra time we'd need for him to make it back to my bedroom unobserved. We couldn't take any chances since the age of consent in Texas was seventeen, which I wouldn't be for another four months, and even when I reached that age, it was illegal for a primary or secondary school teacher to have a sexual relationship with a student.

_Stupid fuckin' rules if you asked me._

From the locked bedroom, James could sneak out my window. We were in a ground level apartment and he could be away and out of sight in mere minutes. So far Momma had only come home early once when James was present and his escape had worked like a charm.

I sometimes wished we had somewhere to meet that didn't have the stress of a possible interruption, but James lived with a roommate and with the law being against us we couldn't take the chance with his roommate knowing about our relationship.

At one point I was worried Momma might figure out I was in a relationship or find some evidence. _Condoms in the waste basket might start an interesting conversation._ So I'd decided to be proactive and made up a more 'suitable' boyfriend. "Jesse" was seventeen, a senior, and buried deeply in the closet. She expressed concern with the fact he was still in the closet and gave me the typical safe sex spiel, but I think she was equally glad I had someone who was making me happy. I wished I could tell her the truth, but I couldn't tell anyone. I think she would have liked James, he was a good influence for me and he treated me very well.

"Good, I don't want to leave yet," he said as he gathered me into his arms.

I buried my face into his neck and inhaled his musky, manly scent. The smile on my face couldn't be repressed and I realized just how much he must love me. James was constantly harping on about my future and he wouldn't be the type to risk being fired if he didn't think I was worth it.

I couldn't help but start to dream about a time when we wouldn't have to hide what we meant to each other.

*****umlm*****

Thanks for reading!

I'm a little nervous writing lemons, I haven't had much success. Usually my reviews take a dive!


	9. Chapter 9

Sorry it's been so long! RL is **extremely** busy right now!

Thank you to all those who've reviewed! I loved getting each and every one of them and I promise to get back to you all very soon.

This is unbeta'd and not pre-read by anyone. All mistakes are my own.

MA: This story has explicit and lemony scenes. If boy x boy relations offend you please don't read any further.

Characters belong to S. Meyer.

_*****_umlm*****

**[year: 2004 – Jasper age 17]**

Summer passed at an incredibly fast rate and I was once again ambling through the Northbrook halls, this time as a senior. It wasn't nice to be back, and even though it was my final year I really wished I could skip having to spend another year in this fucking institution they called high school.

Every summer since I'd graduated middle school I'd spent working on my Uncle Louis' ranch which was located several hours away from Houston. Momma felt it was good for me to keep busy, get some fresh country air, and learn a good work ethic. I think she was afraid if I stayed in Houston I'd spend the summer moping around and playing games on my computer. She was probably right – I _would_.

Louis was Momma's older brother and her favorite family member. He hadn't gotten married until his mid-thirties, so my four cousins were all much younger and tended to follow me around with a kind of hero worship. It was good for my ego considering all the insults and crap I had to wade through on a daily basis in high school and I liked being included in a bigger family.

Before I'd left for Houston James had stopped by the apartment. I hated leaving him but when it came to say goodbye I couldn't muster up an emotion beyond numb. It felt like our relationship was ending and even though he claimed a summer apart wouldn't change things between us I couldn't quite believe it. It quickly became a hot and heavy send-off but it lacked the emotional connection I'd come to expect.

Since neither of us had ever wanted our relationship to become public knowledge we'd never communicated by phone or email, and even though I knew I'd miss him over the summer I continued to put trust in my gut instinct and refused to ask him for his number. Right from the beginning I'd always considered leaving tangible proof of our relationship too big a risk. How many fucking scandals nowadays are broken open when cell phones or email are used as evidence? We had to be smarter than that. We _were_ fucking smarter than that.

Early in the summer I discovered it was a special kind of hell to never be able to contact James and hear his voice when I was at my lowest. However, all I had to do was picture what my life would be like if our relationship was revealed and I knew a few moments of hearing his voice wasn't worth it. I was already an outsider in the high school social circles and being known as the guy who had sex with the most popular male teacher on staff would only bring me more grief and embarrassment. It probably would have been assumed that I had seduced _him_ and then I'd be crucified and reviled for bringing James down. Sometimes I felt selfish because I clearly worried more about the damage our relationship would bring to my life than his.

Now that I was older and bigger, my uncle had put me to work with more demanding physical labor. I had been so busy busting my butt every day I couldn't wait to crash each night. When the summer started I'd often think about James and wonder what he might be doing, missing the feel of his arms around me and his lips on mine, but as the summer progressed I began to think of him less and less, until one day I'd realized it had been a week since I'd thought of him.

It was then that I wondered if I'd fallen out of love with him.

In fact I began to question if I'd _ever_ loved him.

Walking into Northbrook for my final year I was feeling a little nauseous with the knowledge that I would once again be seeing him. I didn't have the greatest confidence in my backbone to avoid getting sucked back in. James was gorgeous and a real charmer and it took being away from him for the summer to gain some perspective. When I thought I was in love with him the emotions that flowed between us made it seem as if age shouldn't matter, but now that the shine had faded I had a hard time reconciling the fact that James was an adult and he was involving himself with a teenager. As much as I hated to admit it, it wasn't like he could have overlooked my age because I'd acted fucking mature for my age or anything.

*****umlm*****

"What's the matter with ya?"

I slid down to the ground and leaned back against one of the beams that held the bleachers up. Tori didn't look up or answer my question. Her long red hair hung down and blocked my view of her face, but I could still tell she'd been crying.

"Tor, I know we don't hang like we used to, but I'm that same ol' guy. You can trust me. What's wrong?"

"Go away Whitlock. I don't _want_ or _need_ your help."

"I'm not goin' anywhere. I can sit here all freakin' day if I hafta."

"You guys are all the same," she muttered.

"Whoa, hold it right there darlin', did you just lump me in with other men? You'd be the first in a long time," I answered with a smile.

I was trying to joke around and earn a smile, but whatever it was that was bothering Tori my humor wasn't cutting through it.

So I sat in silence and waited. For what I didn't know. Maybe I thought she might give up and spill her guts. I was sure I didn't want to hear whatever was wrong with Tori, but this, being a good listener or simply supporting her in silence, this is what I'd been missing when I abandoned all my friends.

_If I were in a_ situation_, was there anyone who would offer to listen to me?_

_Maybe Rose?_

Bored out of my skull I began to pluck grass out of the ground, trying like fuck to appear patient.

Eventually she gave a couple of big sniffles – the kind where a whole lot of liquid snot is about to be swallowed, and then she twisted her face toward me.

Her eyes looked hollow and it was like looking in a mirror. I wondered what else could have gone wrong in her life. She'd never had a 'good' life to begin with, but fuck at least she always had a fire in her eye.

"Can you give me a ride somewhere? You have a bike, right?"

"Uh, yeah," I hesitated. It was the middle of a school day and I _knew_ somehow James was going to find out I'd skipped out. "Is it important?"

"Yeah," she sniffled again but refused to look at me. "It's a pretty fuckin' big deal. I have an appointment for two o'clock that I can't fucking miss."

"How far do you need to go?"

I had a Suzuki GSX-R750, I'd bought it used but the bike handled like a fucking dream. At the end of my junior year Robert had sent me a little bonus money when he heard from Mom that I'd made the fucking _honor_ roll for the first time. I saved up the money he'd sent and the money I'd made at the ranch and by the end of the summer I had enough for the bike, insurance for the year, and even a few extra accessories.

Problem was – I only had one helmet. Texas law states that all motorcyclists under the age of 20 must wear a helmet.

"I'll direct you," she added quickly, brushing away the last tears that had trailed down her face.

"I only have one helmet. I need to know how far we have to go because I'm worried about getting caught," I explained.

"_Oh_, well don't worry about me. I can go without."

"No, you are fuckin' wearin' it or I'm not drivin' ya. How far are we goin'?"

"About a 10 minute drive?"

She sounded so fucking uncertain I didn't know what to think.

"Okay," I took a deep breath.

_I think I can handle not getting myself killed for a ten minute drive._

The place she wanted to go was a place I never dreamed I'd end up.

"You've got to be fuckin' kiddin' me!" I exclaimed without thinking.

Tori hopped off the back of my bike and handed me the helmet.

"If you head back right away nobody will even know you were missing."

"How are ya gonna get home?" As much as I wanted to ignore her obvious predicament I knew with a sinking heart I'd stay.

"Don't worry, the getting here was all that fucking mattered," Tori shrugged.

As she walked toward the clinic doors I knew I needed to find a place to park and join her. With the way she was reacting back at the school I knew this wasn't some visit to resupply her stock of condoms.

"Wait Tor! I'll come with you," I yelled.

Her mouth curved slightly upward but it didn't quite measure up to a smile.

*****umlm*****

"Jasper did you hear about Mr. Shulman?"

The tone in my sister's voice caused my stomach to flip. She sounded concerned and slightly distressed. I'd been hearing snippets of some sort of scandal all day and as usual I'd ignored it. I used to be the king of gossip in middle school, but after having been the victim of the rumor mill in my freshman year I'd been a strong advocate for clean living. I hadn't connected the bits and pieces I'd heard with having anything to do with James.

"No," I answered. One word was the most my voice could find. I was terrified of what my sister could be concerned about when it came to Mr. Shulman. It wasn't like she knew about our connection. Like everyone else in this god forsaken school Rose was a Shulman lover all the way.

_If she only fuckin' knew._

Rose grabbed me by the arm and fucking dragged me to a quiet corner away from the crowded locker area.

You might wonder what the fuck my sister, my_ half-sister_, was doing at my school. At the end of the summer, only a few weeks before school was about to start for my senior year, Rose showed up once again on our doorstep. Well, not literally our doorstep since we lived in an apartment, so it was more like outside our door in the apartment hallway.

She'd had a huge disagreement with her parents and basically ran away from home, or mansion probably would have been a more accurate description. Over the years since we'd first met, Rose and I had formed a tenuous relationship by keeping in contact through email and the occasional phone call. As odd as it was, neither one of us had ever had a sibling before (that we know of), so we decided since this whole situation was neither of our faults we'd make the most of it.

Even odder still, Momma accepted Rose coming to stay with us quite decently. I think she understood how much I liked having a sister.

I still don't know the details on Rose's need to leave Florida, but I got a general picture of Robert misreading Rose's interest in his race horses as instead an interest in a particular jockey. When Daddy Dearest banished her from the backstretch, and she needed his permission since she was under eighteen, she threw a hissy fit.

I've come to understand since that Rose is obsessed with horse racing and Robert's punishment (or need to protect her) was probably the worst possible idea. They were currently at an impasse so when the new school year started, Rose enrolled at Northbrook High School for her junior year. We were both seventeen, but she was a few months younger than me and with the way our birthdays fell she'd started school a year after I had. It actually worked well that we were in separate years because then we didn't have to explain our dysfunctional family in as great a detail. A half-sister in a different grade was a lot less scandalous than one practically the same age.

It was an interesting transition for her, having always lived the 'pampered, princess lifestyle' to living in an apartment that was a short step up from the trailer park across the road from our high school. Yet, despite where she now lived, her designer clothes, model like looks, and blueblood upbringing was all it took for her to break into the popular crowd while I continued to languish on the sidelines. Several times Rose had valiantly attempted to assimilate me into her group, but since I refused to play the game of kissing anyone's ass I never quite made the transition.

My sister's appearance and subsequent addition to our household both helped my loneliness and brought it on even more sharply. When Robert had cancelled Rose's credit cards in an attempt to force her back to Florida, she decided to acquire a part-time job and was quickly hired at a local clothing shop at the mall. Between her part-time job and her active social life, I was again spending a lot of time alone.

Are you wondering what happened with James? Well, when I returned to Houston I wasn't interested in starting up our relationship again, but there was something about James, maybe some tiny bit of fear that he'd expose us, which seems ridiculous when he had so much to lose, that kept me from being completely honest. So I used Rosalie as an excuse. The first day back to school I made sure to introduce my sister to James and worked it into the introduction that she was now living with me. I knew he'd never drop by the apartment when there was the possibility she'd be there and when she got the job at the mall I never let him in on her schedule.

My plan had worked perfectly and he never stopped by. And even though I truly believed I didn't have feelings for him anymore, I was lonely again and sometimes, even at school, he could be persistent.

Just yesterday he'd cornered me in the men's change room when I was alone after I'd finished up practicing with the cross country team and before I could muster up the courage to tell him I wasn't interested he was sucking me off and I was moaning in pleasure.

He was like a bad habit I couldn't quite get rid of. I wasn't confused about my feelings for him; it was more like I was a horny motherfucker who couldn't give up the free action. My cock apparently missed him more than I did.

_It was probably too much to expect that I could learn to abstain - I'm seventeen for fuck's sake._

Whenever it happened I thoroughly enjoyed the physical _deed_, but I felt like fucking shit for doing it afterward. I knew I should be putting an end to it, but I felt helpless to the way he pulled me in.

"There's a rumor going around that Shulman is involved with a _student_," Rose finally explained in a whisper.

_Oh fuck._

*****umlm*****

Thanks for reading!

Next chapter will be the final chapter of Jasper's back story.


	10. Chapter 10 - On Hiatus

I'm sorry but my stories have taken an unplanned hiatus.

My hard drive in my netbook crashed and I no longer have a computer to write on. I lost the chapters (chapter 10 – UMLM & chapter 45 – IWTFY) that I'd already written but hadn't posted. I _know _I should have saved it. I used to email myself the chapters as I closed off my writing each night but I got lazy, and I do own about a billion memory sticks! I'm kicking myself.

Anyway, with summer here and my kids home full-time, and having recently taken on a second job, time got away from me. I'm ordering a new computer soon, but if I can't recover the information from my hard drive it may take me longer to get back into the writing groove when I lost so much that I'd already written.

Hopefully I don't lose too many of you while you wait, but I'd understand if I did.


End file.
